


That's how we win

by gilleboll



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Compliant, Feelings, Holding Hands, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 18:01:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18643228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilleboll/pseuds/gilleboll
Summary: Poe was tired. Actually, scratch that. ”Tired” was just the beginning of it. He was exhausted beyond belief, now that there was finally time to feel anything other than mild to severe panic and adrenaline coursing through his veins. After who knew how many hours of narrowly escaping death and defying all odds, it was a miracle he was still on his feet, but he was too tired to sleep. And too unwilling. Sleep would mean waking up to grapple with the reality of what was left of the Resistance. Poe didn’t want to face all that grief.Post-canon of TLJ where the boys talk some feelings.





	That's how we win

Poe was tired. Actually, scratch that. ”Tired” was just the beginning of it. He was exhausted beyond belief, now that there was finally time to feel anything other than mild to severe panic and adrenaline coursing through his veins. After who knew how many hours of narrowly escaping death and defying all odds, it was a miracle he was still on his feet, but he was too tired to sleep. And too unwilling. Sleep would mean waking up to grapple with the reality of what was left of the Resistance. Poe didn’t want to face all that grief. Instead he opted for checking up on every remaining Resistance member that hadn’t already fallen asleep where they stood. There weren’t many of them left, and none of them talked for very long. Poe couldn’t blame them — the only thing that kept him walking and talking was sheer bullheadedness. 

 

An eerie silence fell over the Millenium Falcon as fewer and fewer people managed to stay awake. Silence and the Resistance were not synonymous in Poe’s mind. Regardless of the time of day on D’Qar, there had always been people and droids milling around, doing their thing; but now there was nothing like that. Not even 3PO was making his usual cacophony of noise. Rey and Leia sat in a secluded corner, quietly discussing something. Poe didn’t want to join in. One of the few people left that he hadn’t talked to since boarding the Falcon was Finn. Finn who hadn’t left Rose Tico’s side even once since bringing her back into cover on the surface of Crait. Finn who had risked everything for a cause he barely even knew. Man, he was loyal. Poe should probably talk to him. 

 

“How you holdin’ up?” he asked once he was standing beside Finn. His voice came out unexpectedly soft, but Finn still jolted as if Poe had shouted. Of course he’d be on edge. Who wouldn’t be, at a time like this?

“I’m… fine. I guess,” Finn answered. “How about you?”

Poe shrugged. “Been worse.” His eyes followed Finn’s gaze and landed on Rose who still laid unconscious on the cot. She had a blanket covering everything below her neck, neatly tucked in under her body. Finn must have done that. He hadn’t, however, gotten around to cleaning the dried blood from her temple. Maybe that was for the better; to avoid reopening any wounds. Poe wasn’t much of an expert on medicinal things. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Finn shift uncomfortably.

“She’ll be alright,” Poe assured him.

Finn looked away from Rose, shifting his focus fully to Poe. “How can you be sure?”

“You took a lightsaber to the back not even a week ago, and here you stand. That’s how I’m sure,” he said with a light smile and a friendly pat on Finn’s lower back. 

“It’s not the same. I was marinating in bacta — she’s not.”

Finn’s worry was palpable. It was kind of heartbreaking, and Poe didn’t want more heartbreak or soul-crushing dread today. How could he fix this? 

“The Ticos are very resilient,” he said. While he didn’t know Rose all that well, he had gotten to know her sister, Paige pretty damn well over the years. If Rose was anything like her sister, then she would come out of this just fine. The thought of Paige made Poe’s insides squirm uncomfortably. Gone, like so many others. And for what? Poe shook his head to clear it. He couldn’t go there. Not right now. 

“And she’s still fighting. So far, so good,” he added.

 

Finn gave Rose another look before sighing and taking a seat on the edge of the bunk, careful to not accidentally jostle his comatose friend. Poe followed suit. 

“I feel like it’s my fault she’s… you know…” Finn muttered, looking down at his hands on his lap. 

Poe’s eyebrows drew together in a frown as he looked at Finn. “It’s not. You weren’t even awake when this whole thing got started,” he said. “If anything, this is on me.”

He hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud. With a heavy sigh, he brought his hands to his face, dragged his fingers from his forehead down toward his chin. 

“You didn’t make her risk her own life to save me from my stupidity,” Finn told him. 

“But I as good as brought her sister to her grave.” Poe’s voice was grim. He didn’t want one more second of this, but in spite of that, it was almost the only thing he could think about. So much of what he loved had been destroyed as a consequence of his actions. His hands fell limply to the mattress.

“Poe…” 

Poe felt Finn’s hand settle gently on top of his own. A gentle squeeze. Warmth, radiating from the touch.

“You can’t blame yourself for all of this.”

Poe started, as he so often did nowadays, fiddling with the old ring he kept around his neck with his free hand. The metal was warm from its time under Poe’s shirt. It was a nice sort of constant. 

“Of course I can.”

“Fine,” Finn admitted. “But you shouldn’t. Blaming ourselves isn’t how we’ll win against the First Order.” 

 

Poe’s hand retreated from the necklace back onto his lap. He shook his head lightly; not enough to stir the curls on his head much. 

“It’s kinda tough, though,” Poe said with a chuckle devoid of much joy. “I mean look at all this. There isn’t much left.”

“Mm…” Finn hummed. This was not what Poe would call fixing the situation. If anything, he’d made it more depressing. He took Finn’s hand in his own, letting their fingers intertwine. It happened pretty much naturally — without coaxing. They sat in silence like this for a while. Poe’s eyes wandered the space around him, where technicians, pilots, commanders and droids were all resting. Even Rey and the general had fallen asleep at this point. Rey’s head rested on Leia’s shoulder. The sight of everyone like this brought another feeling into Poe’s chest. Something fresh, something that he hadn’t already been feeling in the last eighteen hours. Something that wasn’t dark and oppressive. 

“We still have hope,” he mumbled. 

“Huh?” Finn asked. By the sound of it, he had been nearly asleep before Poe spoke. 

Without bothering to repeat himself, Poe went on. Something in him had to say it out loud. To actualise it while the feeling lasted. 

“We still have Leia, we still have Rey. We have the Millenium Falcon. We still have you, we’ve still got Rose, we-”

“We’ve still got you, too,” Finn added before Poe could finish. 

“Not bad,” Poe said, almost sounding like his usual self again. Effortlessly confident in his abilities and not a trouble in the world. He wasn’t entirely there though.

“Yeah. The odds are looking pretty good.”

Poe let out a faint chuckle. “Don’t tell that to him,” he said, nodding towards C-3PO. 

Finally, Finn’s seriousness let up some, and a laugh bubbled out of him. Not a very loud laugh, but a laugh nonetheless, and that was good enough for Poe. He smiled softly at Finn, and the smile quickly became a huge yawn.

 

“How long have you been awake?” Finn asked.

Poe raked his fingers through his hair. “Agh, uh… No idea. Since Starkiller, probably.”

“How aren’t you asleep yet?” 

“I don’t know,” Poe confessed. His whole body felt like it was made of lead. His limbs were so heavy. Probably too heavy for him to stand back up. Everything was aching and screaming for him to just rest; now more than ever. He leaned into the warmth of Finn’s body with a sigh. His heavy head rested unexpectedly comfortably atop his friend’s shoulder and he let his stinging eyes slide shut. Had he not felt like a walking, talking corpse, he would have loved to take a minute to enjoy the moment of closeness. Finn’s body heat. Their hands, loosely clasped together. He felt the weight of Finn’s head settle gingerly on top of his own. He more so felt Finn yawn than he heard it. If only he could get closer than this.

“I’m glad you’re still alive,” Poe said, his words not much stronger than a whisper at this point. He felt Finn’s fingers firmly close over his knuckles in response. 

 

The Resistance was in good hands with people like Finn fighting for the cause, Poe thought. They may have just barely escaped with their lives still intact this time; the Resistance may not have won today, but sooner or later, the First Order would burn. Somehow. 

 

But first, sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, i hope you liked it! i've had this little one shot brewing in my noggin for a while now and i'm excited to finally get to post it!   
> comments and kudos are greatly appreciated as always <3<3


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